


The Marriage of Ser Pounce and Lady Whiskers

by crossingwinter



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Gen, kitten marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:52:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossingwinter/pseuds/crossingwinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tommen marries his kittens.</p><p>Taking place during Cersei’s confinement in the Great Sept of Baelor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Marriage of Ser Pounce and Lady Whiskers

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble for [mademoisellesansa](http://mademoisellesansa.tumblr.com) & [myrish-swamp](http://myrish-swamp.tumblr.com).
> 
> Originally posted on [tumblr](http://crossingwinter.tumblr.com/post/64642100305/the-marriage-of-ser-pounce-and-lady-whiskers).

He heard Ser Pounce scratching at his bedpost, and a faint _meow_.

"She’s up here, Ser Pounce.  She’s asleep," he whispered to the darkness.  Lady Whiskers was tucked into the crook of his arm, where she’d fallen asleep purring while Ser Pounce had chased the flickers of firelight as the flames in the hearth slowly died, his tiny claws clicking against the hardwood floor with every leap.  Boots was probably asleep behind the books in the shelf by Tommen’s bed.

Ser Pounce, claws sharpened and ready for the attack, leapt onto the bed, wrapping his paws around the mounds of King Tommen’s feet and his mouth clamping down over the royal big toe.  Tommen wiggled the toe, and the kitten kicked his foot. 

"I won’t hurt your lady love," Tommen said.  "She is waiting for you, Ser.  Come and claim her."  In the empty room, his voice sounded so small, though not so small as the discontented half-growl the attacking kitten was making.  Against his arm, Lady Whiskers shifted and drew her paws over her eyes.

Ser Pounce stilled, eyes now on the sleeping kitten, glowing with a passion that Tommen could only imagine came from the deepest and most abiding love, like Joff’s had been for Margaery, or Myrcella’s was for Prince Trystane.  The cat climbed Tommen’s body and sat on his chest for a moment.

"There she is," Tommen said, "Waiting for you, just like I said.  True, and pure, and holy," his throat thickened.  He didn’t fully understand why the High Septon had his mother, and Great Uncle Kevan hadn’t really explained it very well.  But  something about it wasn’t right.  Or else Great Uncle Kevan wouldn’t have been so serious when he told Tommen.  "Do you not wish to wed her?"

The cat ignored Tommen, but curled up almost entirely on top of Lady Whiskers, who shifted further in her sleep.

"You must be wedded to be bedded.  Everyone says so," said Tommen, pretending to be affronted.  "And you, only a ser, and she a lady.  But…" he smiled, "I am the king and the king can do as he likes, and so I wed you, Ser Pounce and Lady Whiskers—so long as we tell the High Septon that someone else did it so he doesn’t take you away…"


End file.
